VIII
"I'm really sorry Mia," Bradley said a few days later when we met at our usual café.
"About what?" I asked, unsure of what he was talking about.
"The visit with my family. I didn't think that it would turn into a funeral. And I'm really sorry that I put you through all that especially since we just me."
I smiled slightly as I shook my head.
"You really don't have to apologize."
"I do. How could I put someone I just met through something like that?" he asked as I noticed his grip tighten around his mug. At that moment, I was tempted to reach out to his hand, afraid that he might break the cup if he held it too tight. But I restrained myself.
"You said it yourself that you didn't know that it would turn into a funeral." I tried to reassure him.
"But still," he said, still not looking at me. And finally, I gave into the urge and reached a hand towards him. As soon as my hand touched his, he looked up and finally met my eyes.
"Death is something that affects all of us. And I don't mean to belittle your feelings but you really don't need to apologize."
He looked at me for a few moments, not saying anything as he continued to stare. And as I began to feel uncomfortable, I removed my hand and looked away. Still, he didn't say anything and that was beginning to worry me. I looked back at him to find him still looking at me, causing me to wave my hand in front of his eyes. Only then did he finally blink.
"Are you okay?" I asked. His lips slowly turned into a smile as he nodded, looking into his cup of tea.
"You just reminded me of my dad, that's all."
I was taken aback by his words and this time, it was my turn to stare.
"He always knew what to say to make me feel better," he said.
I still couldn't find any words to say, as all I could do was take a sip of my tea.
"Are you free tomorrow night?" he suddenly asked.
"Why do you ask?" I was finally able to speak.
"I'd like to thank you properly."
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